


That Wire

by orphan_account



Series: Blood and Covenant [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, But its a story about the dark brotherhood so if you dont like violence then tough luck, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Family Reunions, Hurt No Comfort for a good chunk of it, Hurt/Comfort, Muteness, Unedited sorry for any mistakes its midnight and im tired, because Fella is an asshole who doesnt talk about her feelings, no beta we die like men, post hail sithis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 18:45:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18555616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It has been five years since the Dark Brotherhood rose from it's ashes, and slayed the Emperor of Tamriel. With their power and influence higher then it had been ever since the Great War, Fillion should have known better then to mess with a contract.But he didn't.At first, he was overjoyed to be finally reunited with his sister. But she had changed. Soured to the world, she doesn't even speak to any of her family members, not by blood nor covenant. Fillion is desperate to find out why she has gone quiet.





	That Wire

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by the following lines from "Two Birds" by Regina Spektor:
> 
> "One tries to fly away  
> And the other  
> Watches him close from that wire  
> He says he wants to as well  
> But he is a liar."

Fillion knew he had fucked up big time when he received that note. He had poked the bear, and it was reeling back to slam him through the ground. In what form would it come? Poison in his drink? A cloaked killer with a blade? He wasn't sure _how_ the Brotherhood would react to such an outright slap in the face. But he should of known it would be bad. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Lydia had scolded him the entire horse ride back to Lakeview manor from Riften after he committed the crime, and was doing it now again on the route from Riverwood.

 

She hadn't even cared that he had _killed_ somebody- perhaps she was numbed by his usual less-than-legal shenanigans. Perhaps she thought Grelod the Kind had it coming. No. Lydia was only mad, because of all the people to kill. Of every man, woman, and child in Skyrim, he had to pick one of the Brotherhood's contracts. He didn't refute his fiery housecarl's words. There was no point. Because she was _right._ Messing with the Dark Brotherhood, a lethal cultic organization that didn't shy away from murder, was most certainly his worst idea yet. Worse than the time he drunkenly attempted to steal a giant's mammoth, because at least giants were slower than humans. The Brotherhood would ensure that he would face the highest repercussions for stealing one of their kills.

 

And... The Brotherhood. The last time he had spoken to one of their members.... Going on six and a half years ago.

 

A pain tightened in his chest.

 

Fella. There had been no mistaking her nor the uniform of her armor as she had fled Windhelm. And... To think. She had been alive for all that time. Only to meet her certain death less than two years after he'd seen her. He had heard that only three assassins had survived the Falkreath fire, after all. And the chances of his sister being one of them were slim to none. Plus... He was so certain she would have tried to reach out to him if she had survived. Something small to show she was still kicking. But there was nothing. Not even a single sighting of a bosmeri assassin until a few years ago, and that killer was male. So with a great certainty, Fillion knew two things.

 

First was that the Dark Brotherhood was after him.

 

And Second was that his sister was dead, and a member of the former in her lifetime. No doubt she would have told her new "family" that she was blood-related to the Dragonborn. And even if she hadn't told them, they would have found out anyway. They had a certain way of finding any information they thought important.

 

As soon as Fillion had arrived home, he shrugged off his armor, dropped his dragonbone blade, and collapsed in his bed. He wanted to sleep off the worries that plagued him. He would think over the Brotherhood tomorrow. What to do. Maybe he could... Finish what the Penitus Oculatus had started. Maybe... That wasn't such a good idea either. The chances of one of them being out of the sanctuary on contract was high, and any survivors could rebuild their home and family. As they had done countless times over the course of centuries. As he slipped off, he swore he saw a shadow move. But he thought naught of it. His limbs felt impossibly heavy. His bed impossibly soft. And, he thanked the divines, he had dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

When Fillion came to, he was in an old hut that reeked of decay and the iron tang of blood. He gagged, moving to sit up, only to realize that he was not alone. A girl, no more than nine, stood watching him. She was shrouded in a heavy black cloak, and he wondered for a moment what kind of weird dream Vaermina was sending him. But she lifted her head to meet his eyes, and his heart began to pound. Her eyes were the predatory molten copper of a vampire, the same he saw every day on his closest friend, Serana. But these eyes held none of the warmth nor friendship of Serana's. They were colder than ice, despite their flaming color. Fillion found himself reaching for a weapon, only to realize he had none.

 

"Good, you are awake." The girl spoke, her voice as soft as any child's. But it didn't soothe him in any way.

 

There was no way of knowing her true age, and her teeth showed when she spoke. Snake-sharp and deadly in her mouth. Able to kill. Fillion's heart beat wildly against his ribcage. Every draconic instinct told him to hold his ground, spit fire and ice. Reduce her to smoldering embers. But his mortal mind gave those thoughts a kick backstage. They were in a wooden building, after all. And as easy as it would be, shouting fire would certainly set the whole place ablaze. And no doubt Fillion would die alongside the vampire.

 

"You sure are a troublemaker, messing with our contracts, Dragonborn. If your sister had her way, your body would be found without it's head in a gutter. But the others and I talked some sense into her. You're lucky. She can be quite stubborn."

 

His... Sister. Fella was alive? And moire than that, why would her opinions matter so much to Brotherhood. He supposed that if she was one of the surviving three, she would at least be third in command, would she not? That made sense to him.

 

"So..." Fillion's mouth was very dry as he spoke. His throat still uncomfortably tight. "Why am I not dead...?"

 

"We have decided you are of more worth to us alive." She tilted her head towards him. "You are, after all, an accomplished fighter. Killing dragons and all. Our... Sources say you did not hesitate to kill Grelod. And a possible new family member is not something our order is quick to pass up."

 

"What makes you think I'll join you?" He was afraid of the answer, would she threaten his friends? What would-

 

"I'm sure Riften's guards would appreciate an anonymous tip for their most recent murder case." She drawled, her amber pupils shrinking. "But... You must prove yourself first."

 

The girl gestured to three people, he hadn't noticed them before... How could he not have noticed them? They were quite clearly there. All three wore hoods and were bound at the wrists. Prisoners, obviously. His stomach lurched. Would she make him kill them? He could fight her off, probably. He hoped. Fus would work well enough on a vampire. Well enough for him to grab the poker he could see hanging near a dingy fireplace and drive it through her heart while she was down.

 

"One of these is a Dark Brotherhood contract. Kill any three of them. Then you may go free."

 

He swallowed, clenching his fists. These people didn't deserve to die-

 

"You won't even have to join us, you can just go home. All damages forgiven. But... " The vampire stalked over to him, her eyes glowing in that uncomfortable entrancing ways only a vampire's could. His soul roared at the thought of submitting, though, and it lashed out against his mind. He could feel a splitting headache form between his temples. "Don't you want to see your sister again?"

 

Fillion paused. He had not, after all, seen Fella in six and a half years. He... Wouldn't mind getting to pay her a visit. He wanted- no. He _needed_ to speak to Fella. Fillion grasped the poker that hung on the wall, turning it over in his hands. He strolled over to the prisoners, almost casually, almost like nothing was wrong.

 

He stopped first at the Nordic man in armor, lifted the poker, and slammed it down into his throat. The man choked on the weapon, spasming as his death came for him. Slowly. Blood spilling onto the ground. Fillion made a face of utter disgust as he yanked hard on the poker's handle, only for it to break off in his hand. Fillion dropped it.

 

Next, he went to the woman. He places both of his hands on the sides of her head, ignoring her spitting insults and harsh tongue. Within only a single heartbeat, he sent a bolt of lightning between his hands. She keeled over instantly. Her death was quick.

 

Finally, he went to the Khajiit. Fillion crouched before him, and, with a hunter's precision, snapped his neck.

 

Fillion turned back to the vampire, she was smiling.

 

"I take that as you really want to join our order?"

Fillion couldn't manage any more than a curt nod.

 

"Well, dear brother. Travel to Dawnstar and follow the curve of the ocean to the north-east. You will find a great black door. And when you approach it, it will ask a question." The vampire leaned in, thrill in her voice. "You must answer, with 'Innocence, my brother' and the door will open. Then, you can finally join our order."

 

"And to leave the shack." The vampire leaned back against a nearby desk, producing a key from her cloak. She extended it to him. He accepted it. "My name is Babette, and I'm sure you will see more of me in the future... As soon as the sun sets."

 

 


End file.
